JxHQ: Numb
by DonnaJossee
Summary: How Joker Reacts/Deals With Harley's Panic Attacks. ONE SHOT.


**This is dedicated to** ** _Blue Penguin Lightening._** **I had a really emotional time writing this in the best way possible. I really hope you enjoy this, thank you for your amazing support and the wonderful request. - Donna Jossee**

 **Prompt: How Joker Reacts/Deals With Harley's Panic Attacks**

 ** _Numb_**

They happened so rarely, so randomly that when they occurred, it took him by surprise.

Harley was a very, very, decently stable person when it came to ignoring certain emotions. For instance, depression. It was hard for her to feel it, hard for her to understand it. Joker never allowed her to get that down, that out of it.

But it was in those lonely nights that he'd stay out late, those weeks he'd be away on business, that she'd get left alone with her thoughts. And they would consume her.

 _"He doesn't really love you, Harley."_

The voices in her head would taunt her, making her want to pound her head against a brick.

"He's probably out right now with another woman. Someone who appreciates and loves him more than you."

"Shut up." She would scold herself.

But even when she repeated to herself that he stayed loyal, she was curious. Paranoid even.

Her hand would always go for her phone and dial his number.

He'd always answer on the first ring, pissed that she called, answering with a rough "what the hell do ya want, Harley? I'm busy."

She'd always hold her breath until he sighed and replied with something along the lines of "you know I'm not cheatin' on ya, Baby. I'll be home in a few minutes. Pinky promise."

That made every thing better.

But the nights he would get mad, get really pissed off and storm out of the house to go drink more than his liver could handle and smoke more than his brain cells could keep up with, were the nights she tended to lose her grip on things.

Tonight was one of those nights.

She had smelt a perfume that didn't belong to her, and he told her it was all in her head but she knew she wasn't imagining things. She knew by the smell of the perfume it was entirely too cheap to be hers.

He was gone, she was alone. Screaming in her head, trying to wrap her head around the thought of him cheating on her.

Trying to convince herself she was fucking herself up with such thoughts. It was in her head. All of it, right?

It had to have been. He loved her. He created her. What would be the point of that if he just threw it away for another woman?

She felt herself breathing heavier and heavier, her heart pounding, her vision spotting and she hits the floor with a 'thud' as she tries to catch her breath. Panic attacks were very common to her if she was put in an uncomfortable situation. Not having J happy with her and possibly cheating was pretty fucking uncomfortable to her.

.

The Joker was angry.

He was tired of being accused of cheating. Tired of constantly being called out for shit that he didn't even do.

He scanned the room, throwing back the rest of his whiskey, cigarette in one hand and the whole bottle of Fireball in the other as he looked at the people at the club.

He watched the dancing women grind and dance on poles and other women, lust filled gazes of the men and women watching them, a couple of men playing poker at a table in the corner and a woman ordering a margarita at the bar.

He didn't have his Harley.

His eyes lock on a the same woman that left the thick scent of cheap perfume on his cloths the night before and he felt a roil of anger in him.

"Cassandra!" He calls suddenly, motioning for her.

She looks at him, almost shocked that he's actually paying attention to her after everything that happened the night before.

She approaches him cautiously, feeling her face flush once she looked down at him where he sat.

"Y - Yes, sir?" She stutters out and he smirks a little.

"I have a problem," he tells her and she stiffens. Almost every time a man has mentioned a "problem" to her that they need her to fix, it's a hard-on that she has to grit her teeth and get off before they pay her any descent money.

But she knew Joker. She knew he wouldn't dare be bold enough to ask another woman for sex. He would be that bold, but not in that sense.

"What's the problem?" She rubs up and down her arms and he grins widely.

"Harley thinks I'm sleeping with someone else because the little stunt you pulled last night, got on my shirt and she smelt it." He tells her sternly.

"That creep wouldn't keep his hands off me."

"That creep pays good money and you spraying some knock off Chanel No. 5 in his eye doesn't call for good business." He narrows his eyes at her.

"I didn't expect you to come to the rescue, or I wouldn't have sprayed it and accidentally got some on your shirt. You always let us fight our own fights with the customers." She looks down at her shoes and he sighs.

"Well I was feeling decently nice and we see where that got me, don't we?" He sneers and she feels fear prick at her spine. "I oughtta sew your legs closed anyway for bein' a prostitute on the side." Her eyes widen at his statement and she dives to defend her actions.

"I'm not - "

" - Harley told me you are, so don't even try to lie to me." He snaps and she shuts her mouth. "Step outta line again, and I'll kill ya." He promises and she gives a firm nod, though tears line her eyes. "Dismissed." He waves his hand and she tucks tail and gets away as quick as she can.

I glance at my phone, looking to see if Harley's tried to contact me or not. When I see she hasn't, I groan and stand up.

"Johnny!" I motion to him, ready to leave.

.

Harley paces, her fingers folded together, her eyes squeezed shut. Trying to control herself. She couldn't have a break down. She couldn't.

But she was getting closer and closer.

By the time she heard the car door shut, she lost it. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she choked on a sob.

When he came in, he stared at her for a moment, ignoring her crying and closing the door.

He moves to go upstairs but the sound of her knees hitting the floor makes him stop.

He knew what was about to happen and he knew he shouldn't care. But he couldn't stand it. Seeing her so sad, so miserable to the point of a mental breakdown - not the fun kind either.

"Harley?" He asks lowly.

She ignores him, her mind shutting down, her body in a panic as she forgets where she's at.

"Harley."

Nothing.

"Harley."

She hears her name, but ignores it, her head blacking out.

She started praying, as she always did, mumbling. Joker made his way up the stairs to their room to grab the "special stuff" he gave Harley when she has her melt downs, and he heads down the stairs to her.

"God," he whispers and crouches next to her. "Harley," he runs his hand down her back gently, and takes a deep breath.

At the sound of his voice again, she tries to calm down between praying and slipping in and out of consciousness.

"I'm sorry, J." She shakes her head, finally able to look up at him. "I'm so sorry." She clings to him and he gently strokes her hair.

"Shh, shh, shh." He coos. "There, there, Harley girl." He mumbles against her hair.

"I'm sorry," she's not sure why she keeps apologizing, maybe because she feels guilty every time she does this. It shows weakness, and she doesn't want to let him see her showing any weakness. Maybe it's because she doesn't want to come across as whiny. Hell, maybe it's because she's getting tears all over his St. Laurent shirt.

"There's no reason to be sorry," he holds her tightly and she shakes her head again.

"I'm sorry, Puddin'." She cries. "I'm so sorry! I - I keep fuckin' up and I - I - I - "

" - Shh, shh." He presses his lips to her hair.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doin' half the time, Mistah J." She sobs. "I just keep screwin' things up and - "

" - You're not screwing anything up, Harley." He tells her quietly.

"I'm sorry, J. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I - "

He injects her with the serum without hesitation and she looks at him with wide eyes, realizing what he's doing.

" - Go to sleep, Harls." He orders her sternly but calmly. She only whimpers a little bit, her eyes still showing shock as he pulls the needle from her arm and closes her eyes the rest of the way for her.

He picks her up and carries her up to their bed room, dresses her in one of his shirts to sleep in and tucks her into bed.


End file.
